


Make me bleed, make me come

by phrynne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Training, Blood, Injury, Kissing, M/M, POV First Person, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 03:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14803532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrynne/pseuds/phrynne
Summary: We’re at war, me and him, our bodies turned to weapons, our minds filled to the brim with want.





	Make me bleed, make me come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Scald me; I won't melt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778575) by [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks). 



> @lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), you don't know me, but I love your stories. Yesterday, I read on of your recent stories and you said you were in a writing slump. I know how bad that is. I'm sort of in one too. So, inspired by your story, this came up. I hope you like it :)

4 am. I hit the floor again, my body in raging pain, my heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic bird, his hands clawing at my throat, fingers digging into my skin, collapsing the world around me, deeper, darker, snatching the light before my eyes and oh, blissful darkness. My legs jerk once under him and then there’s silence or rather the absence of noise, a void in my skull. All thoughts obliterated. I’m free.

He finally releases my throat. This is the part I hate. I’m coughing my lungs out, spitting out blood from a cut on my lip, my skin branded with fire, lashes from his hexes running down my chest, sweat down my back, my breath out of control. My nails scratch the floor, I think of opening my eyes, but can’t. Just a bit more, I think. If I never open my eyes, then it won’t be over.

We’ve been at it for nearly six hours, staying back after everyone has left the Training Center. We don’t talk, just go in for the kill, wands first, our spell work fast and furious and deadly at times - it makes us too dangerous for the others - then trading the wands for fists, and teeth and headlocks. We’re at war, me and him, our bodies turned to weapons, our minds filled to the brim with want, want, need, need, never enough, can't get enough, let me take you, let me have you, take a swing at me, come at me, do it, do it, you can do better than that, is that your best, Potter, what are you waiting for, Malfoy, fucking do it, c'mon I know you want to, fucking make me, fucking shut up, make me bleed.

We never say _please_.

I lie still for awhile, swallowing my own blood. I feel him there, straddling my thighs. I count his breaths. The time between each inhale and exhale expands, leaves me hanging. He breathes softly now, doesn’t move. His weight, pressing me down, is the only solid evidence that I’m still alive. 

I manage to open one eye, the other feels glued shut. His wrecked face is over me, like shattered glass. He looks like I feel. A deep lash on his stubbled cheek, dripping blood over his naked chest, a black spot under his left eye, a gash on his wand arm, a hard, dark look in his eyes. He thinks he’s won. 

I lift my hand slowly from the floor, like I’m pulling my own strings. He follows the movement. His eyes flicker fast to our wands, on the floor, across the room. My hand lingers in the air before him. The tips of my bloodied fingers find the side of his face. He doesn't flinch away. His chest rises and falls and my fingers drift over his stubble, my arm shakes, probably in pain, but I don’t feel it. His skin always feels warmer than mine, even after this. My palm is over his cheek, sweaty, filthy, trembling. There’s a pause, like sacred silence, like taking a chance, then he turns his head, the corner of his lips under my palm. He closes his eyes, inhales the scent of my blood. Like I knew he would. 

He takes my index finger into his mouth. He whimpers. The sound is filled with pain and arousal and it’s the only damned thing I wanted this whole time. His body shakes and then he’s coming down over me, hands gentle, eyes wet. My mouth hurts when he kisses me, more so when I kiss him back with a thousand unsaid things between us. Shards.

I taste his sweat on my tongue.

His hands tangle in my hair.

I lick over the wound I left on his face. 

His nose drags over my neck. 

He lifts himself up, I spread my legs for him.

This is the moment I chose. 

‘Make me come, Harry.’

Words hurt. His eyes are wide. I smile. 

Then he makes the whole world burn.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi readers, as you see I can't keep away from these two for too long. Hope you liked it :)


End file.
